The Human Need
by Koji Inari
Summary: This blank canvas is stained with your blood. Come back to me before I break. CloudXRiku, minor AkuRiku, yaoi, angst
1. Chapter 1

-1**Title**: The Human Need

**Music**: Thnks fr th Mmrs - FallOut Boy

**Rating**: M  
**Warning**: Yaoi yadda yadda yadda

**Disclaimer**: I don't own KH or FF, but I do own a snazzy painting set.

**Pairing**: CloudXRiku

The Human Need

Chapter 1

The art room at Kingdom University was large, well-lit, and friendly by day. But by night, it reeked of foreboding, splashed with sinister, and seasoned with gloom. The room was lit primarily through skylights, so, without the light from the sun, it became so dark at night you could barely see the canvas in front of your face. As a result, few students spent any time there at night.

I on the other hand, loved the dark. I suppose I am some sort of creature of the night, one of those humans whose brain functions better at midnight than it does at noon. A night owl you could say. There was just something about the sweet darkness that helped me to relax and unwind. This was the only time I could perform at my best.

So there I sat, a cheap MP3 player hanging off my neck, connected to large bulky earphones fitted snuggly over my ears. A dry paintbrush hung limply from my mouth, my teeth grinding into the plastic handle every few seconds. A canvas sat before me, illuminated only by a single backlight I had drug out to use. Upon it's surface was a half finished portrait.

Sighing, and almost losing my brush in the process, I groped around behind me until my hand settled over the handle of a large brush. I dipped it in some white paint and began making smooth, even strokes over the canvas, erasing the portrait easily. I dropped the brush back in its resting place and leaned back in my chair, Rock music blaring in my ears and numbing my senses.

It was time to start over.

----OoOoO----

"Riiiiiiiiikuuuuuuuu…" Sora whined as he pulled at the threads of my shirt. I groaned and turned to face my friend, my pencil falling off my desk and onto the floor in the process.

"What _is _it with you today Sora?" I growled. I picked up the pencil and turned back to my work. I had to review my notes for Art History; my test was in a few hours. However, Sora had decided that he wanted to spend time with me, hence him sitting on my bed behind me, whining whenever I quit paying attention to him.

"But Riku…you promised you'd help me-"

"I'm sorry Sora, I just can't…" Wearily I reached over to grab my textbook off the bed, but was stopped when Sora's hand covered my own. Angrily I glared up at my friend. His big blue eyes were blinking at me in an adorable little pout. It usually got him his way. But not today, I was too frustrated. Ever since I had erased the half-finished portrait, I had been returning to the art room. And each time I left the canvas was blank. All the frustrating late nights were driving me insane…headaches were plaguing my existence and I was falling asleep in some of my classes. The last thing my tired mind needed was Sora's incessant whining.

I pulled my hand out of Sora's grip and grabbed the textbook, pulling it to the desk and flipping it open. "It's not going to work Sora, I'm busy. I have a test soon and I've been up late working on a project. Just….let me study in quiet for a while ok?"

"Project?" Sora perked up, completely ignoring my request. "You're working on a project? Oh, is it another painting?"

"What part of "study in quiet" did you not get?" I said, my pencil scratching against my notebook angrily. "If I fail this test, I'm blaming it on you. And you know how I hate to fail."

Sora pursed his lips and flopped backwards onto my bed in a huff. "Fine, be antisocial. I'm just your best friend…no need to talk to me."

We were silent then, the only noise being the hurried scribble of my pencil on paper or the soft turn of a page. I assumed Sora was either watching me or sleeping. The boy did not have the will to stay quiet long, so I was hurrying to finish off my notes. If I could at least get that done, I would be able to memorize them before the test. I was so busy, I did not notice Sora sneaking up behind me until his head was on my shoulder.

I squawked at the sudden contact and twisted my swivel chair around to face my brunet friend. He smiled at me sheepishly. "Sorry, just looking at what you were writing."

I grunted and turned back to my work. "Stop it Sora, I'm serious, I really need to pass this test."

"But it's no fun watching you do nothing…" Sora complained. "Can I at least look through your sketchbook or something?"

"God, _yes,_ so long as it gets you out of my hair, do whatever the hell you want!" I cried, throwing my hands up in defeat. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw my hyperactive friend rummaging through my bookshelf, picking out which of my many sketchbooks he wanted to leaf through. While he was distracted with that, I turned back to my notes, re-reading the paragraph Sora had interrupted me on.

"Careful with those…" I said after a moment. "I don't want anything getting smudged or ripped."

"I know what I'm doing." Sora replied in annoyance. "It's not like I break things." I grunted in response, not really listening. What was the name of that one painting?… It was bound to be on the test…

"Oops." Sora murmured, my ears picking up the sound almost immediately. I swiveled around, my eyes darting to the sketchbook immediately.

"Oops?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in annoyance.

"Um…" Sora replied, picking up a piece of paper that had fallen out. My expression softened at the sight of the detailed pencil drawing. It was a picture of _him._

"I forgot that was in there," I said quietly. I stood up and walked over to sit next to Sora, all thought about the upcoming test and notes forgotten. Gently I took the paper from Sora's hands, careful not to touch the pencil work even though it had been sprayed with fixative long ago. On it was an image of a boy, nineteen years old, a big, stupid grin on his face. He was holding up a striped kitten small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. The little animal was waving a paw at the long, carefully spiked hair that flowed from the boy's head.

"Axel." Sora said quietly. I nodded as my hand ghosted over the corner of the paper where it had been partially burned away. Pain seemed to flood through the browned edge and into my hand, traveling up my arm and settling into my chest.

"Yeah…"

"It's been almost a year now hasn't it?" Sora asked, watching me carefully. I simply nodded in response, finally tearing my eyes from the paper. I reached out for the discarded sketchbook and reverently placed the drawing back where it had been before setting the book in its place on the shelf.

"I, uh…think I should go now. You have to study and all…" Sora mumbled, before getting up, grabbing his coat from its place on the bed, and leaving. I simply stared off, in a trance, not even noticing as the door closed with a sharp thud.

"Axel…" I murmured.

----OoOoO----

I made it to the art room just as the janitor was locking up. Seeing me, he smiled slightly and opened the door for me. "You're late." he joked. "Don't forget to lock up when you're done."

I smiled in return and grabbed the door. "Thanks, I will."

Once he was gone, I walked into my dark kingdom, looking up at the skylights above. The stars could barely be seen through the thick panels of glass. The moon was full. I smiled slowly to myself and pulled my earphones up around my ears. I did not need the portable light I had been pulling out. The moon was giving off enough light for me to see clearly.

My hand wandered to the MP3 player hanging loosely around my neck. Music flooded into my ears, my mind numbing as my finger slowly increased the volume. It helped so much, the noise of songs I knew by heart. The rough pound of broken love songs acted as white noise that helped me to concentrate, and to lose myself entirely. It was a trick I had learned long ago from Axel. Granted, I would probably lose my hearing in a matter of years, but at the moment, I couldn't care less. The only thing that mattered, was the canvas before me, the brushes in my hand, and the crashing wave of music filtering into my soul, keeping me from thinking clearly, keeping me raw, keeping me in my emotions.

I stuck a brush into my mouth, the soft plastic of the handle fitting perfectly in my teeth. I gnawed on it gently while fishing a mechanical pencil out of my cargo pants. Clicking a stick of lead out, I began sketching roughly onto the canvas, getting in the outline of what exactly I wanted. Slowly the image of a face began to appear among the scribbles followed soon by another. When I was satisfied, I reached back behind me to grab a brush off the table, yelping when I felt flesh instead of plastic.

I whirled, tearing my earphones from my ears. The sudden loss of noise deafened me for a moment as my ears strained to adjust to the quiet. A man sat behind me, his body propped against the table in a comfortable position. He smiled softly at my confused expression and waved slowly. "Go ahead…Sorry to interrupt you."

The apology barely registered in my mind. I simply gaped at him. The man looked to be in his early 20s, not much older than I was. He had carefully styled blonde hair that spiked in every direction and royal blue eyes so bright I could see them clearly in the dim light, as if they were glowing. His pale skin was smooth and milky, without a single blemish on his features.

He was a handsome man.

"What do you want?" I hissed, stopping my music and throwing us both into complete silence. The man simply shrugged and continued to stare at me.

"Just observing. Go ahead and work on what you were doing."

"I can't paint while you watch…" I snapped back. "It's why I work here at _night, _you know, when no one is around?"

He continued smiling at me with this annoying knowing look. "Oh….well, I've been here every day for the last week, and you seemed to be doing fine, except that you always paint over everything that you do."

My eyes narrowed into a deadly glare, but it did not seem to have any effect on the stranger. After a few moments of silence, I turned away and started packing up my brushes.

"Hmmm…" the blonde said. "You leaving? It's kind of early to leave…"

"I'm not going to paint with you around…" I hissed. "So either you leave, or I do. It's your choice."

He shrugged and pushed on the table, righting himself. "Fine, I'll leave. Didn't mean to upset you…" He waved a hand at me and headed for the door. I waited until I made sure he was gone, then set my brushes down and mulled over what had just happened. The man had been strange, but he was probably just a harmless student who had found an interest in my painting. It wasn't really anything to get upset over.

Oh well, this was my time to lose myself. I couldn't do that if someone else was here. Sighing, I pulled my earphones back up, thumbed the music back on, picked up the brush I had reached for earlier, and began painting.

Despite my efforts to lose myself and give way to raw emotion, I found myself drifting off. The music was not drowning out my thoughts like it normally did. Worries about that strange blonde man along with a dozen other things clouded into my consciousness, forcing me back to reality.

Needless to say, when I left that night, the canvas was once again blank.

----OoOoO----

Frustration and anger are hard emotions that eat away at the soul and can rot a person from the inside out. For me, it had been happening for a year. Sickness and pain were a constant companion at my side as I strived to get over depression and strive forward in my life.

For a year my canvas had been blank.

My inspiration, my love, my life, died one year ago, trapped in the structure of a burning building. Since that day, I haven't been able to paint a single thing. The flame was gone, lost in a dead inferno. But God knows I've tried. I've worked myself nearly to death night after night, desperate to bring it all back, to capture it all again.

But all I received in return for my efforts was several trips to the hospital, collapsed from lack of sleep and malnutrition. I, the great and talented painter, was slowly killing myself because I'd lost my ability.

It was a drawn out ritual consisting of constant torture. I rarely ate, I was an insomniac, my body that I had carefully taken care of for 18 long years had been reduced to skin and bones, muscle wasted away and under developed. I had gone from a strong, healthy young man, to a skeleton damned to eternal stress and weariness. I'd gotten used to the sight of my own blood as I vomited periodically. I was sick. But I would go to hell before I'd let anyone know it.

Sora, my best friend in the entire world, didn't even know the true extent of the pain I went through every day simply by living. He knew I was depressed, he knew I was frustrated, but he didn't know to what extent, and if he had, he'd have had me locked in the nurse's office before dawn. But I didn't want to improve, I didn't want it all to go away. I had been living in a constant hell for exactly one year, and I didn't know if I could possibly live with myself if I got out of it.

So instead, I ignored my emotions during the day, and released the inner demons at night. That was the only thing keeping me sane, the only thing keeping me alive. My art was my savior. But it was also my greatest folly, because it was something I could no longer do. If I had to live with a blank canvas for another year, no, another month, another _week_. I swear I would kill myself.

And this strange, blonde man was not helping.

After the first appearance of the stranger I had taken a night off from painting, to catch up on my missed sleep and to finish studying for upcoming tests. Sora didn't bother me, not after the incident with the picture. He knew that seeing it had thrown me into another one of my moods, my depressions. In fact, few people besides the bouncy brunet talked to me any more, so I found that I had more quiet alone time than I knew what to do with.

My music filled my head without the need for a player. It was perfectly memorized, down to the last note in my mind. I could play it at any given time, to concentrate. But it still wasn't the same as sitting in the dark, alone, with the bittersweet notes pounding in rhythm to my heartbeat. Even taking one day off was having adverse effects on my system, and I vowed to return to my dark kingdom come the next night.

But when I did, I found trouble in paradise. My canvas, my beautiful, blank canvas, was gone.

My knees went weak at the sight as an overwhelming terror rose up in my throat along with bile. I collapsed back against the table, my mind not understanding. I'd been working for a year, replacing worn out canvas with worn out canvas for months. But why, why now, of all times, when my depression had reached an immeasurable height, why now did it have to disappear.

A footstep rang out clearly in the silent room, and I turned to find the placid form of a tall, blonde man, standing not far behind me, a book in his arms. My mouth gaped open slightly in a curse as I looked back to the empty easel my canvas had occupied, then to the man standing before me. "_YOU…"_ I started. But the man only shook his head and walked over, sitting on the table in front of me with the ease of a man who was in control. "You took it!"

The man let out a grunt and shrugged his shoulders lightly. "You were frustrated with it. You need to stop."

"_How dare you,_" I hissed, my hands clenching in anger. "How _**dare**_ you."

The man's eyes narrowed as he stared at me, their luminous shade of blue giving off an icy effect that chilled my blood, despite the boiling hate coursing through my veins. "If you didn't stop, you'd have killed yourself." He replied, his tone matching mine perfectly. The silence seemed to pronounce his words, shifting them almost into a threat. A threat of life.

"What the fuck do you care?" I seethed. My eyes flashed, burning with anger and hatred. "What the fuck do you care about me? I've my own life to live, and I'll live it how I want."

"By killing yourself?" the blonde replied simply. "I don't think so. I've seen you re-paint that canvas more times than I can count. I've seen it, sitting in that corner for God only knows how long, and each time I saw it, I wondered what kind of poor sap was stuck in such a rut. Then I find you." The bastard let out a soft, wry laugh. "To think that it's not just a rut, but that you're killing yourself in the process. I mean, look at you, you try to hide your anorexia with baggy clothing, you're practically dead on your feet, and you're killing off your ears and brain cells with music so loud I'd be surprised if you can hear yourself think."

"I'll repeat my question once more asshole.." I snarled. "What. The. Fuck. DO. YOU. CARE?!?" My voice cracked at the end, something that hadn't happened since I was a Freshman in High school. I was on the edge of my nerves, I was exhausted, and all I wanted was my time, my time to be me, to paint and get frustrated so I could go through it all again. Why couldn't this man understand that? Why couldn't he see how I was suffering, and how I needed this?

Instead of answering my question, he held up the book he was holding and handed it to me. A white ribbon stuck out of one of the pages. I glared at him, but he didn't seem to care, he simply shoved the book into my face again.

It was a strange little sketchbook. It was leather-bound, with the word "Cloud" printed in fancy, silver lettering on the cover. I swallowed my anger for a moment, my body, and certainly my hands, shaking with the raw _frustration_ pouring through me like a wave. I took the book, and opened it up to the page the ribbon was on. There, sketched all across the page, and on the next few pages after, was myself, painting. In every single sketch, a dark cloud seemed to surround me. I noticed how tense the muscles were, how stiff my posture, how tightly I held myself. Despite the pure energy radiating from the sloppy sketch lines, every drawing seemed so dark and sad, it seemed to pull the life right out of it. The absolute worst, was a three-quarters view of my head from behind. My skin seemed so drawn in, my eyes hollow, and the expression on my face seemed so frozen, as if carved into stone.

My forehead scrunched up. I was unsure of exactly what I was seeing, but something inside me broke, and tears welled up into my eyes. The first tears for a year.

The book fell to the floor with a thud, and suddenly I was there next to it, my legs drawn up to my chest, my head pressed between my knees. My body wracked as large sobs swept through me. My earphones lay around my neck, forgotten.

The man just watched me, not reaching out in a hug of comfort, not showing any display of caring at all. I continued crying in the silence, suddenly feeling so small and helpless. Not again, I could not feel like this again. This is what was locked up, what I came here every night to prevent. This was not what I wanted.

Bile rose in my throat, gagging me. I swallowed most of it, the sick taste of vomit staining my tongue and burning my throat. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't, as hard as I wanted to, I could not keep the steady flow of tears from streaming out my throbbing eyes. My chest hurt, my stomach hurt, I _hurt_. Every single part of me hurt as if this man had just raped me and left me for dead.

And he only stood there to watch.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think you guys are used to getting random stories from me aren't you? Well, this one was inspired by The Glass Slipper's story: Double Forte. Granted, this story has absolutely nothing to do with music, but inspiration has many forms, most of them in the shape of bunnies XD.

So, please leave a review. I noticed that this chap is longer than most of my normal chapter are. I find that a good thing! I write too short of chapters all the time, it's about time I start lengthening them. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

-Koji

PS: **Reviews for the poor? (Cough cough) Please?**


	2. Chapter 2

-1**Title**: The Human Need

**Music**: Another Place to Fall - KT Tunstall

**Rating**: M  
**Warning**: Yaoi yadda yadda yadda

**Disclaimer**: I don't own KH or FF, but I do own a snazzy painting set and Photoshop.

**Pairing**: CloudXRiku

The Human Need

Chapter 2

_Music… Take me away. I don't want to live._

I hadn't come out of my room since the incident. I hadn't eaten, I hadn't drank anything, I just couldn't force myself to get up. Three days. Three days I lay in my bed, only occasionally moving to use the bathroom or to replace the batteries in my MP3 player.

Sora had come to see me during this time. He'd knocked on my door, pleaded with me, stood outside for God only knows how long, anything to try to get me up and out. But I wouldn't, couldn't get up. Something inside of me was broken, and the only thing I could honestly force my brain to comprehend was the twirling fan blades above my bed.

On the third day though, a shuffling from behind my door caught my attention. I wouldn't have heard it if my batteries hadn't died again, but I had, and it perked my interest, if only slightly. I cast my gaze to the door and saw a shadow through the crack beneath it. Seconds later there was a knock.

I didn't answer. I knew it was Sora, and I didn't care. I was going to stay in this room until I rotted.

The knock came again, this time more insistent. When I didn't answer, there was a grumble, followed by a loud sigh. The shadow receded, then returned as something thin and white was shoved under the door. Then it was over.

I stood silent for a few more minutes, just staring at the white envelope on the floor. It wasn't Sora. That grumbling voice had been too deep.

Finally, after what seemed like countless hours, I walked to the door and picked up the small white envelope. There was nothing written on it's surface, so I opened it up, pulling the contents out slowly.

I didn't recognize the handwriting. It was fluid and graceful, without any slips or shakes. It was done with a precise hand, much like a girl's….

Or an artist's.

_If you want your canvas back, then get off your ass and meet me in the art room tonight. Same spot. You know who this is. Also, I know if you are reading this you completely ignored me at your door, so open the damn thing and pick up the box before someone else does. You're skinny enough already, it's about time you ate something._

There was no signature, but there didn't need to be. I knew who it was. That man. That damn bastard.

But he was offering me my canvas back. He was offering me my release again. But…why? There had to be some kind of ulterior motive. There was always an ulterior motive.

As my eyes scanned over the last words I became puzzled. Eat something…what did that have to do with the situation at hand? Shrugging, I decided there could be no harm in opening my door.

Beyond the solid wood entrance was a rather large box. It was at least 3 feet tall and weighed a ton. I couldn't lift it, so I pushed it in instead. Once it was safely sitting in the middle of the room and the door was shut, I walked over and examined it.

It was a normal box.

Sighing, I went into my bathroom and got a box cutter from one of the drawers. I came back and tore the package open, then blinked in surprise when I saw that the box was filled to the brim in food.

Ramen, canned fruits and vegetables, dried meat, minute rice, even tea bags lined the box. The sight of all that food made my stomach clench in pain. It had been a while since I'd eaten anything…

I gave in. I pulled out some of the dried meat and began chewing on it slowly, my stomach groaning in pain as it demanded more. Why had this man, who I barely knew, giving me food? Besides that, why was he even bothering me at all? He had been the one to barge in on my time alone, he had been the one who took away my only release. _He_ was the evil one here. Why was he giving me food and pretending to care about my well being?

I shrugged mentally and finished the piece of meat, then shoved the box into a corner where it wasn't in the way. It didn't matter. Everything would be settled tonight. I was going to meet him.

-----------------------

The art room was dark when I arrived. The door was open, but there was no one inside. There were no lights, there was no indication that anyone at all was there.

My eyes quickly adjusted to the absence of light. I walked in and sat down in an available chair, twiddling my thumbs until this man was to come. As my mind wandered off, music flowed through my head, the tunes and lyrics somehow interchanging themselves to fit my mood. Broken melodies of Fall Out Boy, Evanescence, AFI, HIM, and various other artists beginning to crowd my thoughts.

It all went away when a portable backlight was flipped on. I closed my eyes against the blinding light and jerked back, as if I were afraid.

The man walked in front of the light, his golden hair shining. Combine that with those _eyes_ of his, and one could swear he was a god. But I knew better.

We simply stared like that for what seemed an endless amount of time, neither of us moving. It was as if we were sizing each other up. As if we could just stare at each other long enough, and something would happen.

Well, something did happen, and it had nothing to do with getting my canvas back.

"Well?" I finally asked. The blonde simply shrugged in response. It told me everything, and nothing all at once. "You aren't giving it back to me….are you?" I rasped. He shook his head. "Well, then why are we here?"

He paused a moment to look at the floor, then sat down on the table across from me. The light was still behind him, illuminating his outline and the dust swirling around his head. For some reason, it reminded me of the old paintings, where the angels or saints or whatever had glowing heads. The effect was disturbing.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"About what?" I snapped back. I couldn't look him in the eye for some reason. Not with him glowing like that. It made me self conscious.

"About whatever your problem is," the blonde replied. "I meant, it has to be something, with the way you obsess over that canvas, and how you've been living in your dorm for the longest time. You haven't been going to your classes have you?"

"What does this have to do with you?" I asked, angry that this bastard was involving himself in something he didn't know anything about. This was not just some thing he could pry into, this was not just some sit down and talk about it cheap therapy session. This was me, and what right did he of all people have to pry into it?

"Because perhaps I can help…." he said gently. I glared, my mind racing. This was a trick right? Some twisted sick trick. No one helped for just anything, it was a known fact. This man wanted something out of me…but what?

"What gives you your kicks?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Seeing me squirm like this? Knowing what you're doing to me? Perhaps you think you can get something out of me by doing this, some kind of feel good warm and fuzzy feeling? What is it you really want, money? Sex?"

The man blinked, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "I'm just trying to help you…."

"Yeah right…" I replied. "And I'm just a naive little kid. Look, whatever you're doing may work on my best friend, but I sure the hell am not going to sit here and take it."

I'm not entirely sure what got into me that day, I'm not even sure if I knew at the time. It just felt like all my pent up anger was coming out. Last time it had been depression, this time anger. Somehow it felt like my emotions were coming out, one by one, weather I wanted them to or not. The real me wouldn't have done that. The real me wouldn't be so god-damned angry at this person I didn't even know. The real me would have just cooperated.

But the real me died a year ago in a blazing fire.

"What are you so afraid of?" the man asked softly. His voice seemed to cut right through me, down to something buried deep inside my chest. Fear, there was a word I hadn't heard in a long time.

"I'm not afraid of anything…" I growled.

"Then why else would you be acting like a cornered animal?"

"I'm no-"

"Yes you are, look at you. The first time I confront you, you go ballistic and withdraw in on yourself, now that you have to face me a second time, you're lashing out. You're going through your options one by one, and you're running out. Why are you so afraid?"

I paused, unsure of how to answer. As much as I disagreed with him, he was right in a sense. I was lashing out at him….but the asshole stole my canvas dammit! He stole what was precious to me!

"I'm not scared…" I finally replied, unable to look him in the eyes. He sighed and looked down.

"You aren't going to cooperate are you?"

"No." I replied.

The following silence felt like the aftermath of a nuclear bomb, when nothing is left alive to make any noise. The only thing that could be heard was the soft hum of the backlight.

Finally I sighed and got up, preparing to leave. "If you aren't going to tell me, I'm just going to leave…" I said softly.

There was a grunt and suddenly I felt myself being lifted off the ground by a pair of strong arms. I squeaked loudly and struggled against him, but the man was a lot stronger than me.

"Let go of me asshole!!" I growled.

"My name isn't asshole, it's Cloud…" the man replied. Well, at least that explained the word on the sketchbook.

"Whatever, _Cloud_," I replied. "Let me go before I call security!"

"Security isn't in this area at this time of the night…" he replied smoothly. I struggled, but only made myself dizzy as the scenery flew by in my vision. After nearly a full minute, I just gave up and hung limply, letting Cloud take me wherever he wanted.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"My place…" he replied simply.

"What, going to rape me?"

"Funny, but no, I've got something to show you."

------------------------------------

His apartment was right across the street from the college, it was small, and it was neat. Once we were inside the door he set me down. I of course decided to bolt, but he grabbed my shirt and pulled me back before I could go anywhere. Damn, this Cloud person was strong. Though, I suppose I hardly weighed anything, considering my anorexia.

After a short struggle, he finally managed to get me to the couch, where he left me while he went to go make us some coffee. I thought about making a run for the door, but the small attached kitchen was closer to the door than I was, and I knew that Cloud could catch me before I got anywhere. So I sucked in my breath and sighed deeply, waiting for this night to end. I could only hope the bastard didn't try to rape me or anything.

"So…" I said after he handed me a mug full of strong, black coffee. "Why am I here?"

He took a sip out of this stupid looking Mickey mouse mug and stared at the wall across from us. I glanced over to it, my mind barely registering the paintings covering the entire surface. There was one of just a skyscape, another of the ocean. Just normal, everyday paintings.

"Well?" I prompted.

"Tell me Riku, have you ever been in love?"

I blinked, unsure of how to answer that. Of course I had, but why did he need to know that? My stomach tightened. Maybe he WAS going to rape me. I was about to respond when he continued.

"Have you ever felt hatred? Maybe angst or extreme pleasure?"

I nodded slowly, not sure where this was going. It just seemed like the right thing to do, even under the stress I was under. I blame it now on the coffee, the caffeine having strange effects on my mind.

"Have you ever painted them?"

He looked at me with those glowing eyes, those bright, luminous, cobalt eyes, and simply stared, as if expecting an answer. As an artist, I would have immediately said yes…

But as a real person, I honestly thought about it.

I nodded slowly, not quite sure of my answer. He grunted and took another sip of his coffee, as if that had told him all he needed to know.

"Do you always listen to music when you paint?"

I nodded again.

Another grunt.

It went like that for nearly five minutes, him asking questions, me nodding, him grunting. It would have been comical, if I hadn't had this strange sense of danger lingering over me. Something about this, just didn't seem right.

Finally he asked the last question. "Do you honestly want your canvas back?"

I nodded once more.

"Then you can have it, but you have to promise to meet me in the art room at least once a week, every Wednesday."

My eyes narrowed, but I hesitantly agreed. If it got my canvas back, I would sell the moon.

We stayed there a little longer, until both our coffee mugs were empty and I felt more out of place than a kitten in a dog pound. Getting up, I excused myself, and Cloud had no objections.

In some ways, I would have preferred the rape.

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Yeah, I'm tired. I just wrote he last three pages of this in 15 minutes. That is like, a new record for me. I was seriously typing without stopping to think about anything. It just flowed, as soon as my thoughts entered my head, it made it to the paper. Man, I love being able to type really fast.

Anyways, I have only one excuse for taking so long to update: School has started, and I am swamped with work. I have 2 books to read, including "The Color Purple" which is the most RETARDED book in the history or retarded books. It's boring, and it's hard to understand. I'm sorry, but uneducated southern slave drawl is VERY hard to understand for someone used to hearing Spanglish in everyday language. The other book doesn't seem so bad, so I'm a little happy.

I also have a lot due for my art class, since I keep getting higher and higher in the ladder. I just wish that I had some sort of teacher who knows what they are doing. I have more Photoshop experience than the art teacher, and I've had it for only 20 days. Oh joy.

Not to mention the Physics homework and all that jazz. Seriously, I feel swamped right now. But I'm glad I could finish this. Truth be told, I used it as an escape, and practically broke my keyboard from trying to hit it and type fast at the same time. Now my fingertips hurt…..

Anyways, I'm done complaining. Review replies here:

Anonymous: Thanks

ChibiFrubaGirl: Thanks, and yeah, I've kinda dropped all my other stories T-T But, I'll eventually get back to them, like Waiting till the Bomb Drops, I've got a new plan for it already, so, that should be good. If I could get some ADD meds, maybe I would actually be able to finish things.

Endoresu: Lol, well, here is your update, hope it doesn't disappoint

Thanks everyone.

_**REVIEW OR RIKU COMMITS SUICIDE AND WE NEVER ACTUALLY GET TO THE CLOUDXRIKU LOVIN**_'.

-Koji


	3. Chapter 3

-1**Title**: The Human Need

**Music**: Snowflake - Mew

**Rating**: M  
**Warning**: ANGST and YAOI

**Disclaimer**: I don't own KH or FF, but I do own a snazzy painting set and Photoshop.

**Pairing**: CloudXRiku

The Human Need

Chapter 3

I went to class the next day. Not only that, but I couldn't help but eat one of the packages of Ramen that Cloud had stuck in the box. Normally I wouldn't even consider eating in the mornings….but it looked so good, even if it was just sitting there, doing nothing.

As if that weren't enough though, my mood rose a bit as well. Don't ask me why, but it felt as if some kind of weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. It was a momentary, short-lived peace, but it was a rejuvenating one. I worked at my daily tasks with renewed vigor, something that both my professors and Sora were relieved for.

I suppose it could be blamed on Cloud. Though there was no specific reason why. For the first time in months I had had a decent night's sleep after meeting with the older man. Not to mention that he had gotten me eating again. It could have been a freak thing, but something in my brain just drew a line from the sudden overwhelming calm in me to that quiet, blonde haired man in the art room. Even thinking about it made me feel like I needed to see him again, just to see if this was really coming from him.

This calm that I was feeling was a new experience, a complete 180 from my normal, emotion filled life. I was used to feeling hard edge, extreme emotions: anger, hatred, depression, passion, sadness, but never had I felt something so _empty_. Like some sort of void had appeared where my heart was, sucking all the emotions out of me. It was peaceful yes, but also disturbing in the most horrible of ways. Without knowing what exactly was causing me to feel this way, calm led to paranoia, which eventually trampled back into the smooth sense of emptiness, as if even that emotion had lost its way.

So I counted down the days in piles of missed homework, rapidly growing piles of empty ramen cups, and scrapped sketchbooks. Wednesday could not come fast enough as I searched desperately for this continuing emotion that made my stomach clench, but not as badly as the other emotions did. It was like some sort of alien presence in my gut, dissecting me from the inside out.

When I finally did get done with my last class, and night was just around the corner, I grabbed my bag and hurried down to the art room. When I arrived it was already twilight outside, and the janitor was still cleaning inside. Cloud too, was already there, his back to me, one of the dirty supply smocks tied around him. His hair seemed mussed up, and his posture wasn't so straight. He looked tired.

I walked over and sat down behind him, waiting until he was finished with whatever he was doing so we could talk. I wanted to ask him about that feeling in my gut, as well as discuss what was going to happen with my canvas. The questions were burned onto my tongue, but I would wait.

After another fifteen minutes the janitor departed and Cloud and I were left alone. No sooner had the door slammed shut then the blonde haired man turned to face me. Those cobalt eyes washed over me, and suddenly that empty calm was gone. I blinked in response, and he nodded, turning once more to his work.

Unsure of what was happening, and disliking the noisy silence, I edged my way up to look over his shoulder. He had a mirror on the stand in front of him, and had been busy painting thick black stripes straight down the reflective surface. As I watched, he carefully drug the large, foam brush down its surface once more. From the angle I was at, it looked almost like prison bars, with my reflection trapped beneath. The effect was almost disturbing, yet at the same time interesting.

I recoiled as Cloud turned away, satisfied with his work. He yanked the strings of his smock apart and threw the dirty piece of cloth onto a nearby table. Then he turned back to look at me, and I froze.

"Hey…" Cloud said softly, brushing past me to go to the sink. He turned the water on, tested it, and began washing his brushes out. "You actually came, I wasn't so sure with how quickly you left…"

I watched, mesmerized by the rhythmic rubbing motion he was making as he washed the cheap foam of the brush. Black paint drizzled off it, thinned by the water and running like a grayish waterfall. I simply nodded to show I was listening.

Cloud sighed and finished washing the brushes out before dumping them in their bucket on the side of the sink. He then leaned against the sink, examining me more. "I suppose you are just going to growl at me, and ask for your canvas back, am I right?"

I looked down, slightly ashamed that he knew the very thoughts in my mind, though, after my previous behavior, it wouldn't be hard to figure out.

"I thought so….tell me, Riku, look into that mirror I just painted, and tell me what you see."

I looked back up, unsure of what he was saying. It took a moment, but eventually I turned to look at the mirror, my eyes traveling to the thick bars of paint first, then slowly to the image behind them.

I saw what I had seen before, my image stuck behind large, iron bars, imprisoned within the artwork itself. I relayed this information to Cloud at his urgings, and he shook his head slightly, as if contemplating something.

I grew impatient as I watched his face contort in thought. Although it was an interesting sight, it was not what I had come here for. "Are you going to do something?" I asked. "Or just sit there and think?"

Cracking his neck, loud walked past me and over to one of the cabinets located in various spots in the art room. He pulled out a key and opened it, revealing stacks of various supplies….and my canvas.

He pulled my canvas out and looked it over, then turned and handed it to me. "Here…" he said. "You wanted this back…"

I reached out to grab it, but he pulled back at the last second, leaving me stranded in the air. When I glared, he simply shook his head, and walked past me, placing the canvas on an easel next to the mirror. "Over here…"

I walked over to him, still wary that he was going to do something with my canvas. But he didn't, he just stepped backward to give me some room and crossed his arms.

"Is that it?" I asked. "You're just going to leave me here?"

"I want you to paint." I was about to object, but Cloud held his hand up and motioned to the mirror. "Paint what you feel. I don't care what you see, but stare at the mirror, and paint what you feel….Without the music."

The last part was directed at me as I raised my earphones. I paused, staring at Cloud as if her were a madman. "But…" I started. "I can't paint without any music."

"Yes you can…" he replied. "Just stare at the mirror, and do what feels natural. Paint your emotions, not the emotions programmed into you by that crap you call music."

I opened my mouth to argue, but then felt better of it. Cloud didn't seem like the arguing type, and his expression was not only one of seriousness, but of complete exhaustion. For the first time, I noticed the dark rings under his eyes. Had they been there before? I didn't know. I had always been to busy staring at the bright blue of the eye itself.

After a short staring contest, I turned to look at the mirror, and then the blank canvas before me. I closed my eyes for a minute, recalling a song, any song, to get me through this.

_How cruel,_

_Is the golden rule?_

_When the lives we live_

_are only golden plated…_

Fall Out Boy. It fit my mood perfectly like a glove. Strange that the first song I should think of would meld so perfectly into my own emotions.

Keeping that song fixed in my mind, I grabbed one of the unused brushes Cloud had left on the table and stuck it in my mouth, then picked up another brush to paint with. Idly I looked up at the mirror, not at all disturbed by the picture of Cloud watching from behind my shoulder.

The first stroke of the brush came down strong and thick, a solid black line as thick as my thumb. My teeth clenched, digging into wood, and I continued laying down thick line after thick line, until I had the basic shape of a human eyeball on the canvas. I grabbed another brush, to change colors, when I happened to look up and see Cloud in the mirror, close to me, practically on top of me.

I jumped when his hands touched my shoulders, almost dropping the brush clamped between my teeth. I tried to turn around, but he had a firm grip on me, not allowing me to move.

"What the hell?" I grumbled, though I doubt he understood me with a mouth full of wood. Instead of responding, he began kneading my shoulders with his hands, a feeling I found both slightly painful, and strangely relaxing. I felt my body go from stiff as a board, to soft like putty between those skilled fingers. His thumbs pressed into s spot that made my whole neck relax. Damn it felt good.

"Calm down…" he said, after I had completely relaxed in his hands. "You're tense…and tense doesn't work. Just, look at the mirror and paint what you feel, not what you think you should paint. Stop thinking so concrete, and let it go."

His words were calming, and surprisingly, I listened. The lyrics of the song faded back under his occasional calm urgings, and I began painting in large strokes in a variety of red colors, some soft and muted, others bold and saturated. Black somehow found it's way into the mix, and soon I had large, spiked streaks across the canvas. All the while Cloud was whispering to me, and softly kneading my shoulders.

My mind blanked out at some point, better than my music had ever done. Concentration left in a steady flow, and after a while, I found myself running a dry brush randomly over the surface, the wet paint spreading and thinning out. If I had been paying attention, I would have been painting in a certain shape, but I was in such a dream like state, that I didn't even notice as Cloud slowly reached out and took the brush from me.

It didn't take long however, to realize there was no more pressure on my shoulders. I came out of my daze slowly, and stared at the canvas in front of me. It was a mass of blacks and reds, all spiked sharply and running upwards. Yellow was splashed across the bottom, and I realized that the random lines somehow, faintly resembled flames.

"What….the hell?" I stammered. This was not what I painted. I painted humans, animals, landscapes, fruit…not this abstract stuff. And…why flames? Of all theng why the hell did I paint flames?

I glanced up at the mirror once more, and with horror, I saw a flicker of red behind me. Whirling, I stared at the air behind me. There was nothing there but Cloud, cleaning out my brush in the sink behind me.

Slowly I turned back. The flicker of red was gone, but for some reason, my eyes were drawn to the lines in my face, the places where the skin was pulled tight from being too thin, the poor state of my hair, the dullness in my eyes. For some odd reason…I looked old.

I shook my head and turned away. I was beginning to hallucinate. Worriedly I wondered if Cloud had slipped me some kind of drug without me knowing. It was possible….

Another glance at the mirror and still I could see pain and weariness etched into my own face. It wasn't a hallucination. It was real, I seriously looked like that. The thick black bars only enhanced the dark look.

As I was staring at the black paint, a flash of red flickered in the corner of my eye. I turned to look again, but nothing. I shivered. This was like…some sort of creepy ghost story.

"Riku…" I jumped. "Sorry…Are you alright?…That painting looks a bit angry."

I gawked, staring at the reflection of Cloud How could he be so calm when I was being haunted? Couldn't he see it? That flash of red just beyond my eyesight. That blood red stain that flitted away, teasing me! Why didn't he say anything? He had to have seen it!

"The red…" I murmured. He only cocked his head, then shook it slowly.

"Yeah, I noticed. That's why it looks angry. Red is the color of passion you know. Love and hatred are both colored that, as well as anger and lust. It's an extreme color, for extreme emotions. The color of madness."

"Madness?" I asked, my knees feeling weak. What was wrong with me? Why the hell was I even here? Why was I talking to this man, this bastard anyways? Why did I bother to come out of my room, come out of my safety, come out of everything, just to see him? All he did was toy with my emotions…make me slip farther and farther into doubt and hatred. Yes, that was it, I hated him. I hated this man, this Cloud.

Cloud's eyes softened. "Blood. It's the color of blood, Riku. You know that? It's a precious color."

My pulse quickened at his words, though I didn't know why. I could suddenly picture something, something I had thought buried. A boy, pinned to the floor beneath a beam of wood. There was so much red. So much red. So much….so much

"Blood," Cloud said. "It's a sad color, red, but still a pleasing one." He turned slowly, and must have seen the mortified look on my face, because he frowned. "Riku?….are you ok?"

Something sticky beneath my hands, the intense heat. I could only see red. Red of his hair, red of his shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, _red shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, red shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, red shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, red shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, red shirt, red blood, red flames, hair, shirt, blood, flames, hair, shirt, blood, flames, hair, shirt, blood, flames, hair_

_shirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirt_

_Bloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtblood_

_Flameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtblood_

_Flameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtblood_

_Flameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtblood_

_flameshairshirtbloodflames…_

"Snap out of it!"

My mind cleared, and suddenly I was no longer burning. I could no longer feel the pain in my leg, or feel the blood on my hand. I could no longer see much of anything , because I was staring at the damn mirror, and all I could see was red.

There was a crash, followed by a curse and pain in my hand and arm. My vision cleared, and I saw Cloud holding my arm in a tight grip, staring at me with this look of utter confusion on his face. Blood trickled from my knuckles, where a piece of glass was still embedded in them. I blinked, and noticed that there was no longer a mirror sitting there, but a pile of broken glass laying shattered on the ground.

Cloud's hand released my arm, but I didn't move. I stood frozen, confused and hurt. What had just happened? What had I done? Cloud didn't even have time to say anything. I just turned and ran, leaving him back there with my canvas and the mirror.

The bars were broken, and now my canvas was stained with blood.

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Sorry for all the spelling and grammar mistakes, this was written late at night and I didn't have time to edit it…or to do much else for that matter. Speaking of which…is anyone interested in beta-ing my stories? I have a hard time editing my own work, and I often times don't catch little thing such as spelling or repeated words. Don't know why I can't do it with my own writing, because I beta my friend's stories just fine….

Oh well, the job is open if anyone wants it, though I doubt it.

School has been a bit better. I lose Photoshop on Friday…so that means no more happy funness T-T Oh well. It was good while it lasted.

Anyone notice me getting a little too phycological in this chapter? I didn't mean to, seriously, I was just going to have Riku freak out about the touching thing…but when you're writing at 1 in the morning, sometimes you have to go with your gut. Well, my gut went crazy, and added an extra 2 pages onto my original plan, but I like where this is going. Yay me for never having a real plot line! Gotta love that….Well, I hope to update soon, plus I have 2 gift fics to write! So expect a lot from me soon.

To my reviewers, who are special because, unlike the other 300 people to view this story, they actually decided to be nice and tell me what they thought of it:

**Riku-Rocks**: Thanks…I was a bit worried I was rushing the pace at first, but you make me think otherwise XD I really hope I can keep up with the mood and all…..already I've deviated from the original speech pattern and such…but hey, I'm trying.

**ChibiFrubaGirl**: Yes, we love our angst Riku don't we? And I've been getting a lot of comments on Cloud's character…is he really that mysterious? Oo'….Well, I suppose he is isn't he? Gotta love him. XD

**Porygon181:** Yes, evil Cloud, he's so evil it's not even funny XD Poor Riku is so screwed up right now he doesn't even know what he's thinking. Oh well, he'll have to get over it, because he and Cloud need to get together, though I'm not sure if I'm going to have any really hard man sex in here, more fluff than anything, and there is a reason for that, but I'm not telling XD. But you never know! It might change, my story plot changes with every new chapter, so…I just go with it.

**Jeiku:** Yeah, I know what you mean, a lot of AU are a little _too_AU for my tastes. If you know what I mean. I like angst, and I like fluffy and WAFF, but I don't really like extreme changes to the original characters (no, I don't count my angst Riku as extreme) or over-emotional pieces. I like natural, unexaggerated (ok maybe I'm contradicting myself here) fics that are well written and stay pretty close to home as far as character and such go. But, well….I should shut up now. Thanks for the four thumbs.

**Anonymous**: Here is the next chapter: )

**-------------------------------**

**THANKS FOR READING, NOW REVIEW, OR I KILL CHARACTERS TILL YOU AGREE.**


	4. Chapter 4

-1**Title**: The Human Need

**Music**: If Everyone Cared - Nickelback

**Rating**: M

**Disclaimer**: I don't own KH or FF

**Pairing**: CloudXRiku

**A/N: !!IMPORTANT!!**

**This chapter is dedicated to Christian Leyva, who died over the weekend. He was with his friend when a drunk driver pulled in front of their car. When Christian's friend swerved, they jumped the guardrail and the car rolled over. Christian was not wearing a seatbelt and was thrown out the windshield and killed. **

**I cannot stress to you enough how much you should not drink and drive. Drunk drivers kill more people than lightning, wild animals, and cancer combined. Please, for the love of humanity, do not drive drunk. Losing a friend and a classmate is something no one should go through. People have so much to live for, and in the case of teenagers, or any child, their lives have only started, and they deserve to grow up. Don't take that from them because you could not hand over the keys for the night.**

**Thank you.**

The Human Need

Chapter 4

Death is something that we humans never seem to fully grasp. The more traumatic the events leading up to the death, the worse it is. Grief piles up in our hearts because we know that, the person who was once here, no longer is. It makes us understand our mortality, that we are not invincible, and that is can happen to anyone. It makes us understand the balance of life. What it does not make us understand….is why.

People die every day, grandparents, parents, children, friends. Age does not change that. When you are young you feel as if you are invincible. When you count out how long you have left to live, you count it out in decades and years, not in days and hours. You laugh with your friends, cry with them, share with them, and when you go home you expect to come the next day and see them there, smiling and ready to do it all over again.

But then death steals them away, and they aren't there in the mornings. You walk by the usual meeting spots, and unconsciously look for them. You round a corner, and for a moment, are surprised they aren't there waiting for you. You show up to class, and see their empty seat there beside you, and suddenly the realization hits you like a ton of bricks. They aren't there, and they never will be again. That's when the world feels so much larger, and you, all the smaller.

Death will come to everyone in time, It is a fact of life. It is a cruel, sad, terrifying truth, and it will have you on your knees, your eyes lifted to the heaven, begging God and every known or unknown deity to turn back the clock, and to bring them back for at least one more day.

_If everyone cared and nobody cried  
If everyone loved and nobody lied  
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride  
Then we'd see the day when nobody died_

And I'm singing

Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive  
Amen I, Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive 

That was what went through my mind as I plucked a piece of glass from my skin. I paused, my eye catching the reflection in the bathroom mirror. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, my face contorted in a gruesome expression of pain and terror. Instinct flashed, and I nearly broke the mirror as my good fist connected with it. Pain raced up my arm, but I didn't care. Slowly I collapsed to the ground, the glass in my hand forgotten as my vision filled with red again. Why did it happen? Why did people have to die?

There was a knock at my door, but I ignored it, my back sliding down the cool tile of the bathroom to the floor. I wasn't going to get up for them. I didn't care who they were.

Moments later I heard my door open. The bathroom door cracked, and Sora peeked in, his expression neutral. "Hey…" he said softly. "The door was unlocked."

I closed my eyes, shutting him out. I didn't want him here, because he represented the after. That which I had obtained _after_ the incident. I didn't want the after. I wanted, needed the before. Before the fire and smoke and **hell** I had gone though.

I felt Sora sit down next to me, and suddenly there were arms around me, pulling me over and against him. He pushed my head down to rest against his chest, while his head nestled into my hair. "I was on my way to see you when this blonde guy came running by…He told me about what happened."

I said nothing, but I knew Sora wasn't looking for a response. He knew me well enough to know that I wouldn't talk, and that at this stage of my grief, I wanted only to be held and talked to.

I wished he would leave.

"Axel?" he asked softly. I only opened my eyes and stared at the arms around me. His one hand was nestled right over my ribs. Silently I wondered if he could feel it protruding out, the product of malnutrition and a year of mourning. I wondered what he thought about it, if he could possibly understand it.

But then I noticed his smooth skin, untouched by trouble or pain. I noticed how, his hand didn't shake with raw emotion like mine sometimes did. His skin wasn't drawn tight across bony fingers. He didn't have any evidence of suffering, like the scars from cuts and burns from the flaming beam that had pinned me to the ground. His skin was smooth, and soft. He couldn't possibly feel any empathy for something he couldn't imagine.

"Riku…" he started. I could tell he was struggling to think of the right thing to say. "Riku…I think it's time you let him go. He can't come back…and you're only killing yourself. I don't want to lose you."

I was right. He didn't, "You don't understand." I growled bitterly. "How could you?" I yanked myself from his arms and stood up, ignoring the pain as the remaining glass moved within my skin.

I walked away from him, from my best friend, and moved into the halls. He didn't follow me as I made my way outside, behind the dorms and into the courtyard. The stars above were shining bright enough to barely be seen behind the thick blanket of smog that surrounded the city, slowly smothering it of its life.

I approached a large oak tree centered in the middle of the courtyard. Leaves fell from it's branches and twirled to the ground like small ballerinas. Their methodical descent predictable and soothing. They were a beautiful sight, because every once in a while the fluorescent lights from the building would catch on them and make them glow golden and amber.

Then a strong breeze blew up, and the slow decent was interrupted as the leaves were caught in the current. The whole tree groaned as its uppermost branches caught and rustled indignantly, more of its jewels being pulled out and blown away from the courtyard and into the street where they were smashed by passing cars.

My hair was caught in the wind, whipping to the side and obstructing my vision. I reached up and pushed it from my vision, closing my eyes and listening to the angry rustling of the leaves as I recalled exactly why I had come here. I could remember nights when Axel and I had come here to be alone. The wind and leaves were the same, but the tree was not.

Etched into the rough bark of the trunk were the letters A&R outlined by a course heart. It had been there for one year, a promise to remain together forever. Now there were other initials all over the trunk. It made me sad, seeing all those promises that might come true, and knowing that mine wouldn't, because Irony loved me, and took Axel away only days after he had written it.

I could still see him, sitting there, then suddenly pulling out his pocket knife and turning to face the tree. _"This tree is going to be here till after we're gone Riku. Oaks are strong trees, and last practically forever._" He smiled back at me and tapped the blade of the knife against the trunk. _"You want to be together forever Riku?"_

I remember that I blinked up at him with clear aqua eyes and grinned. I remember agreeing , that yes, we'd stay together forever, and that I loved him beyond all reason. We'd kissed then, and he turned to carve our initials into the tree. It was I who took the knife afterwards and drew the heart around them.

"_Now,"_ he had said. "_We've got proof that in sixty years, we'll still be together, and we'll see this tree, and remember our promise. Now we can't leave each other, because it's a contract that we can't take away."_

A week later, he left me forever, yet the contract still stood.

I didn't notice at first as two strong arms pulled me back into an equally strong chest. I only noticed when a hand found its way into my hair.

"Your hand ok?" Cloud asked softly.

I stayed where I was, not willing to open my eyes, because I knew if I did, I'd lose that vision of Axel, and see only pain.

But despite my wishes, Cloud had his own ideas. He reached around and lifted my injured hand, looking it over. "You still have some glass in on, I'll take you to my place and clean you up."

The illusion was shattered, and I let him lead me away from the tree.

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I know it is a short chapter, and that I have a lot to do (gift fics and such), but I wrote this during my History class, because Christian sat right next to me, and everyone was crying. It really is sad when you expect to see someone every day, only to find they are gone. I didn't know Christian that well, but I had talked to him, and he was a nice guy. Even if he wasn't, he didn't deserve to die. I suppose I stuck that written thing into my story because it seemed to fit, and I figured, hey, why not give an internet tribute to the guy? He deserves it, and whoever the drunk was who killed him, deserves to be thrown in prison. I would say shot, but I don't believe in killing.

So yeah….Guess this has a serious overtone to it. I'm not playful, I'm crying. In my last class of the day, I sit in Christian's seat. I forced the teacher to switch me to an empty desk. I guess I just have a real problem with death….Anyways, please forgive the short chapter.

**Readers**: I don't really care if you review for the story, but show your love to Christian, even if you don't know him. It only takes a minute, and it would mean a lot to me.

Review replies:

**Page of Cups**: I don't think you realize just how much I revere your reviews. You happen to be one of my top 5 favorite writers, and I simply love it when you review. (Especially when you compliment me) : ) As for Riku's extreme anorexia…yeah, I think it's over the top too XD, but you got to have some exaggeration sometimes. And I really think it fits in this situation.

**Nox Wicked**: Thank you! I'm glad you like it even though it's angst, please keep reading!

**Anonymous**: I've been told my characters are the best parts of my stories…..and I think I agree XD. Thanks for reviewing and reading…please keep doing so.

**BlackIceNinja**: I'm glad you like this story. It's one of my favs too.

**Mr. Harlequin**: Your story should be done soon, I just got sidetracked on this because of what happened. I promise to get it done by next Monday, cuz I'm also swamped with college 2 times a week, so yeah.

**Thank you all for reading….Please leave a comment for Christian, or for me, or both. Thank you.**

**-Koji Inari**


	5. Chapter 5

-1**Title**: The Human Need

**Music**: Pushing Me Away -Linkin Park

**Rating**: M

**Disclaimer**: I don't own KH or FF

**Pairing**: CloudXRiku

**A/N: **Thank you for leaving reviews for Christian. It means a lot to me. Also, I recently wrote a fic for Ouran High School Host Club called "I Love You Too Brother" check it out when you have the time.

The Human Need

Chapter 5

For the second time in one week I found myself sitting on Cloud's couch, staring at a wall of paintings. Red, blue, green, brown, they all seemed to swirl and dance in my vision.

Yellow parted the vortex and captured my attention, causing everything to return to its original real state. Though at that time, I couldn't honestly say what was real any more.

I continued to follow Cloud's head as he came over to sit next to me, a first aid kit in tow. He plopped onto the couch, rummaged through the box, and came up with a small bottle of alcohol, a couple balls of cotton, and a pair of tweezers.

"I'm sorry I upset you…" he said as he began rubbing down the tweezers with alcohol. When he was satisfied, he reached over to grab my hand.

I pulled it away. "I don't need your help, or your sympathy." Our eyes locked. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"

He was quiet then, we both were, and we just stared at each other. Then he leaned forward and grabbed my hand, pulling it to him so he could remove the glass. By this time a thin scab had formed over the surface, but he peeled it back to get at the pieces of glass still inside the flesh.

"Damn it that hurts!" I tried to pull my hand from his grip, but he had a tight hold on my wrist.

"Shut up and let me get this out. You still have a couple slivers of glass in there. If they stay there, you'll only hurt yourself more."

The tweezers pokes into the thin cut, and came up with a shiny slice. I winced. "I don't care, it still hurts."

"You sound like a little kid," Cloud retorted while trying to remove a particularly stubborn piece. A drop of blood bubbled up under his ministrations and he used a ball of cotton to dab it away. "Riku…why were you so angry? I mean, I understand that my words upset you in some way, but I just never thought you would get _that_ angry."

I looked away, partially because I didn't want to answer him, and partially because I couldn't stand to see him pick at my skin.

We were both quiet for several minute, the only sound being the rhythmic tick tock of the cheap cat clock that hung above the kitchen counter, and the occasional tap of the tweezers closing.

Finally Cloud put the tweezers away and pulled out a bandage wrap to place over my hand. He broke the silence.

"I'm all done. I might have missed some, so go easy on using that hand for a while alright?" He pulled the cloth tight over my skin and tied it off.

Being the stubborn boy that I am, I kept my eyes on the cat clock and kept my mouth closed.

"Riku….Do you hate me?"

I looked up at him, knowing the answer, but unwilling to say it, that yes, I hated him. I hated him beyond all reason, because he constantly threw me into turmoil. He was the bane of my existence, and he was the only thing keeping me here, despite my will to leave. I suddenly wanted to feel the pain in my hand again, to give my an excuse to not answer him.

"I should go…" I replied. I stood up from my place on the couch and turned toward the door. But Cloud pulled me back again, like he had been doing since the day I met him.

"Sit down. I'm not letting you leave just yet." He pulled me back onto the couch and held me there. "Look, maybe I've been a jackass, and maybe I've been pushing you too far, but I honestly don't want to see you throw your life away. It's like you're slipping away from this world every day, and that hurts me, because you have so much to live for. But you only seem to want to die. I thought I was helping you….but….I only seemed to hurt you." He turned my head towards him so that my hesitant aqua eyes met his luminescent, determined ones. "I'm sorry Riku. If you want me to leave you alone, I will. You just have to say it."

I didn't answer. I didn't say a single word. I just got up off the couch once more and left the apartment. Cloud didn't try to stop me, but then again, he didn't really need to. I didn't reply to him at all, I never let him know.

So I suppose, in a way….I was giving him permission.

0-------------------------------0

I went to the art room the next night. Only God knows why I went. I could have stayed in my room, I could have gone for a walk off campus, I could have slept, I could have done so many things….

But I went to the art room.

Cloud was sitting there, waiting for me when I walked in. He was sitting with his legs crossed and his head supported by his hands. He looked so tired, and worn out. For a fleeting moment I wondered why, but it passed. I didn't care. I was just here to tell him to leave me alone, to finish saying what I couldn't last night.

So I walked forward until I was standing in front of him. He slowly lifted his head up to stare into my eyes. I noticed that the saturated blue of his irises was somewhat duller, not as shiny. But then again, it was probably the light.

"Riku…" he started, but I looked away before he could finish, cutting him off.

"I'm sick of this Cloud. I'm sick of you trying to save me, when you don't even know who I am or what I need." I turned back to him. "This needs to stop."

Those tired blue eyes of his seemed to grow a shade paler, and he looked down into his lap once more. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"So are we clear?" I asked. Somewhere, deep down, I wanted to kick myself for possibly hurting this guy who only wanted to help me. But the more determined side of me won out. "You're going to leave me alone?"

He let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his mess of spikes. His eyes closed and he nodded slowly. "Fine, Have it your way…By the way…I took the liberty of painting over your canvas from last night." He gestured loosely toward a corner of the room. "Seeing as how it upset you and all."

I nodded and walked over to that corner of the room. Sure enough, my canvas sat atop a small easel, blank. "Thank you," I started, but I stopped when I heard the table move. Cloud was standing up, and heading toward the doorway.

"Where are you going?" I asked, slightly alarmed. Don't ask me why I felt that way, I just did.

"You don't want me around anymore remember?" Cloud said, looking back at me. "I'll see you sometime maybe…just don't kill yourself ok?"

"Hold on…" I sputtered. "I said I didn't want you interfering, that doesn't mean you can't stick around." Why was I saying this? I honestly couldn't have told you at the time. Possibly it was because I secretly didn't want Cloud to follow my instructions, and possibly it was because I enjoyed the older man's company. For all I knew, it could have been something entirely different. Just, for some odd reason, I didn't want him to go, despite how I thought I felt.

"I'm sorry Riku…I have work I need to catch up on…" Cloud replied. He started to walk out, then stopped and looked back at me. "Unless….you would like to come over to my place?"

Something deep inside my brain said no, but something else, the irrational me, said yes, and I went with it.

"Well. I guess I could." What the hell was I doing? I had just got done telling this guy to fuck off. Why was I accepting an invite to his apartment?

Some of the color seemed to flicker back into Cloud's eyes, and he motioned me toward the door. "After you. I think you know where it is by now."

We got to Cloud's place a few minutes later, and I found myself on his couch for the 3rd time. Only this time I had consciously chosen to go there. It even almost seemed familiar by now. I recognized things in the room I hadn't even known that I'd looked at before. Individual paintings stuck out like sore thumbs to me, the cat clock looked a bit out of place. The red leather of the couch suddenly seemed too bright for the surrounding furniture. Since when did I notice things like that?

Cloud handed me a cup of coffee, then picked up his own Mickey Mouse cup and sipped at the bitter liquid. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few pills before swallowing those as well.

"What were those?"

"What were what?" he responded, sitting down on a stool in front of a small desk.

"Those pills?"

"…Vitamins." he replied. "Just vitamins."

"Oh…" I took a sip of the coffee. EW. It was really bitter. "Do you have any cream?"

"In the kitchen," was his short reply. Man, this guy didn't talk much did he?

"Oh alright…" I got up to go get some cream, when a covered up canvas caught my eye. It was leaning against the wall with a sheet draped over it. I could see a splash of blue in the corner.

"Hey what's this?" I asked, walking over and starting to take the sheet off. Cloud turned to look and was there in a flash, his hand on mine.

"Don't touch that…" he growled, pulling my hand back. He must have noticed me wincing, because he released my hand. "Oh shit…" he sighed. "That was your bad hand huh?…I'm sorry Riku.." He turned away. "Sorry, just…don't touch that."

"What is it?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." Cloud replied. He looked up. "The cream is um…in the fridge."

He started to walk past me, but I reached out and grabbed his arm, then looked back at the covered painting. "Come on…show me what's under there….it's the least you can do after everything you've put me through."

"I said no…" he growled. "There are some things that are private Riku. I'm not going to show it to you."

"Oh come on," I replied. "After all the shit you put me through? You think this is too private to show me?"

I was being a dick, and I knew it. Cloud knew it too, if the small vein that was popping in his forehead was any indication. "I said no Riku."

"But,"

"I said no!" he growled, shoving me back against the wall. I yelped and dropped the cup of coffee, letting it hit the hardwood floor and shatter. Cloud's hands were on either side of my head, and I suddenly became afraid. I had felt a lot of things around Cloud, but I never really had been afraid of him. For the first time I noticed how muscular he was.

"C-cloud?" I croaked.

"I'm sick of it Riku…" he hissed. "I tried to be nice to you, I tried to help you. I don't know why I even tried." He shook his head. "You don't know how patient I've been trying to handle you, trying not to hurt you." His hands balled into fists, the nails scraping across the wall.

"Patient? Trying not to hurt me?" I raised my hand, which was still covered in a bandage. "You see this? I wouldn't have gotten this if it wasn't for you!"

"You also would have been dead by now." Cloud slammed his fist into the wall next to my head, causing me to wince. "I don't know what you've been through Riku, and I don't care anymore. You want me out? Fine, I'll get out. I'll stay out of your life entirely if that's what you want. Go ahead and screw up your life."

"This isn't about me is it?" I growled. "None of this was about me at all was it? If it was, you never would have pushed so hard. You didn't act angry like this until I mentioned that damn painting. What is it you're hiding from?"

"And what the fuck do you care? You're too wrapped up in your own self-pity to notice the things around you! Did you happen to miss that you have a devoted friend who cares about you? Were you so oblivious that you couldn't see everything that you had? You're so preoccupied with your losses you can't see your winnings!"

"How do you know what I'm going through? You don't even know me! I'm just a random kid you can mind-fuck for your sick pleasure. Just stay the hell out of it!"

"I know all about your boyfriend and what happened to you. And believe you me Riku, you aren't the only one to have loss in your life."

I stood there, shocked. He knew about Axel? He knew about what I was going through? But…all the things he did…they weren't nurturing hugs and such that everyone gave me. I had assumed that he hadn't known, because no one did. What the fuck was going on?

"What the hell are you talking about?" I whispered.

"Maybe if you pull your head out of your ass long enough, you'll see what I mean." He pulled his hands back and turned away from me. "Get out of my apartment. I don't want to see you here again."

Confused, and more than a little hurt (for whatever reason) I turned and left.

What the hell had just happened?

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Hmm…I have nothing much to say, except thank you everyone who left a message for Christian.

Namikun Masaki: Thanks for being my beta! I didn't give you this chapter, but I'll give you everything after this (that is if you still want to beta for me. I'm unpredictable ):

Page of Cups: Tragedy and Angst are what I do best, don't ask me why. Riku might learn his lesson, but it's going to take some time. He isn't too good at letting go.

BlackIceNinja: most of the stuff professors have you read suck. That's why I like online fiction, most of it is so much better than school assigned crap.

Nox Wicked: Yeah, raw emotion (to me) makes the story. If there is no raw emotion, there is no story, because it isn't real enough. Humans are emotional creatures, we thrive off of our feelings, we act by them, we live for them, and we die for them. Without emotion, what are we left with?

Ladytigger4lyfe: I write death fics because I've had experience with it. My father died young, and the emotions I felt and how I dealt with it will always be ingrained in my memory.

Mr.Harlequin: Love ya, truly do. I've been working on doing your fic, but I'm having problems since Marly isn't a char I usually work with. I've re-written the same chap 5 times, and I've finally settled on an AU fic. It's coming along, and I should be able to get it to you soon.

Riku-Rocks:I am seriously pulling each chapter out of my ass. There is absolutely no plan here (except for one thing about Cloud's past) and I'm interested to see how this develops. For me, my best stories are the ones where I have no idea what is going to happen until it does.

English professor: HOW DARE YOU NOT PLAN AHEAD

Me: (shoots English Professor) STFU you old bag.


	6. Chapter 6

-1**Title**: The Human Need

**Music**: Lose Control - Evanescence

**Rating**: M

**Disclaimer**: I don't own KH or FF

**Pairing**: CloudXRiku

The Human Need

Chapter 6

A note for those of you attempting suicide, water is extremely cold at night. And that makes it a bit hard to concentrate on dieing when your skin if frozen solid. The only good thing about the temperature is that it makes everything go numb. And numb is a good thing for dieing, because it makes the outside world seem fake, as if you are looking down on it from someone else's eyes.

Its sad really, that no one even noticed me jump off the small bridge into the canal. It was pity that the water didn't kill me on impact, but I suppose the bridge wasn't tall enough to do any real damage to me. Even so, the freezing temperature of the water, combined with my poor swimming skills….I suppose there isn't much to say really. It was the perfect way for me to die.

Or at least it would have been, if it wasn't for a hobo living on the bank of the canal.

He pulled me in when I was barely conscious. According to him, my lips were tinged in blue and I was mumbling something about an apology. I couldn't possibly tell you what really happened, because I was delirious at the time. All I know is that I saw a flash of red, mixed with blue right before I passed out.

When I awoke, it was to the rank smell of trash and sewage. I wrinkled up my nose and pulled the blankets closer. I was so cold. So damn cold…

It was then that I remembered that I had jumped from a bridge, that I had attempted suicide. What I couldn't think of, was how I survived….or how I had a blanket over me.

I sat up, wincing as my brain was hit with a ton of bricks. My skin felt numb, my stomach sick.

"Looks who's up…" A deep but kind voice said from somewhere to my right. Once my vision quit spinning I turned to see the handsomest hobo I'd ever seen. He had long brown hair and sharp features. There was a thick scar that slashed right over his nose, making his would be pretty boy appearance a bit tougher. He was eating ….something out of a small plastic container. "Not dead yet I guess."

"Where…am I?" I asked slowly. My stomach heaved with each word, and I felt as if I were going to throw up any second. That rotten smell didn't help any.

"You're in the slums kid. Congratulations. You failed to kill yourself."

"Who…are you?"

"The name's Squall, but you can and _will_ call me Leon. I'm the one who drug your sorry ass out of the canal."

"But….why?"

"Because I've done the same to every other imbecile who's tried to throw their life away by jumping off of some bridge or another. Let me guess….girlfriend left you? Parents got divorced? Lost your job? Family member died?" His eyes searched me quickly, then looked away. He snorted. "You look like you've been through hell. You're skinnier than I am. Anorexic? Or just stupid?"

The questions became a jumble of words to my slow mind, and it took a few moments for me to catch up. "I'm….not an imbecile."

Leon snorted. "Yeah right. Then you're a dumb-ass."

I growled. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look at you kid. By the condition you're in, despite the obvious neglect, you come from the good side of town. I bet you have a college education, might even still be in college, have a meal in front of you every day, have nice friends and a family. Yet here you are, in the slums, because you thought your life was so fucking bad. Am I right or am I right?"

"How…do you know that?"

"How wouldn't I know? I've seen a dozen or so of you assholes come floating along down this river, trying to off themselves because they have it so bad. Heh, try living a week down here and see what it gets you. You'll be running back to your cozy bed and warm meals before two days are up."

My brain still wasn't functioning at this point. And it was somewhere around here that I finally noticed that I had no clothes on. I yelped and pulled the blankets closer, as if trying to hide my nakedness. Not that it would really matter, I mean, the guy had to have undressed me for me to be naked.

Leon looked over at me strangely and took anther bite out of…whatever he was eating. "Relax, you don't have anything I haven't seen before. Besides, you'd have died if I'd left you in those wet clothes."

"You should have just let me die…"

Leon looked me over, then pursed his lips and set his container down. "A'ight" He walked up to me, bent down, pulled the blanket off, and picked me up, slinging me over his shoulder. I yelped in surprise and struggled against him.

"What the hell are you doing?!?" I cried in alarm as he began carrying me toward the canal. I wrapped my arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to hang onto him.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm gonna kill you." he replied nonchalantly. "That's what you want right?" He pried my arms from around my neck and threw me down into the water.

My head went underwater for a moment, and I panicked. My mouth opened to let out a scream, but I ended up only swallowing water. My arms flailed about, trying to gain some purchase. Down and Up became confused, and I grabbed onto the first thing my hands could get a grip on.

Then I was lifted out of the water, coughing and sputtering like a fish. My skin was freezing from being in the cold water, and my lungs were in no better shape. Each breath stung, as if I were breathing ice.

"What are you doing?…" Leon growled, dropping me onto the ground. "I thought you wanted to die. Well? Go on, jump in. I don't need you around here."

"You're insane!!" I choked, huddling in on myself in a desperate attempt to get warm.

"Am I?" Leon asked, turning back toward his food and the blanket. "I don't think so. If anyone here is insane, it's you." He plopped back onto the ground and began munching on his food again. "I mean, look at you. You say you want to die, but you don't have the courage to go through with it." He shook his head. "You're nothing but a damn hypocrite."

I scrambled back over to the blanked and curled up in it, desperately trying to get warmth back into my skin. "Y-you aren't supposed to help me!!"

"Why not?" he replied. "It's what you wanted. Or are you used to getting sympathy? Oh boohoo, my parents died. Oh boohoo, I lost my job, oh boohoo, my girlfriend left me." He shook his head. "Shut the fuck up and move on. You're only given a few decades to live, use them. Only an idiot gives up everything before it's due. You don't get anything to make up for it in hell."

I shivered, pulling the blanket a bit closer to me. "You have no right…"

"I have every right. The minute you jumped off that bridge your life was no longer your own. You belong to me now. Just be thankful I'm a nice guy." He finished whatever was in the box and threw it to the side. "So…tell me slave, what's your reason for wanting to end it all? I think I've heard them all, but maybe you can surprise me."

I paused, unsure of whether I should even be talking to this clearly insane person. But after a moment, my rational side won with the argument that, hell, he saved me, so why not?

"Well….my….my boyfriend…"

"Ah, so you're queer….go on."

I frowned. "Well, my boyfriend died a year ago in a fire. I was there with him. Actually it was all my fault, I was the one who wasn't watching the oven. The cat knocked an aerosol can onto the burner….and ….well…"

"Fried cat."

"…..Right. The fire spread so fast…I ran to get a fire extinguisher, but I couldn't get the tab out. By the time I managed to, the fire had spread across the room. Axel…my boyfriend, tried to grab me and drag me out of the fire, but I was….so stupid. I wanted to save the place, and I tried to put the fire out, but….well it was spreading fast.

Axel and I got cut off by the blaze. I was so scared…but he kept his arms around me the whole time. He told me he wasn't going to let me go, that we'd get out of it.

Axel heard the firefighters, and he let me go for a moment to wave at them…it was at that moment that a beam from the ceiling came down. It smashed into Axel's head, and knocked me to the ground. There….was so much blood, so much red…Axel's hair, the blood, the flames…everything was red. I passed out somewhere in there…

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Axel was dead, and it was my fault." I swallowed. "Now it's all coming back, because of that fucking idiot Cloud. He's making it all come back. I just…couldn't live with myself anymore. It had to end."

I was crying by this time, and to me, it seemed as if Leon's face had softened the tiniest bit.

"You tell a good story kid. Too bad it's all false."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I choked, wiping back some tears with my arm. "It's all true!"

"No it isn't. Because you blamed yourself, then you blamed this Cloud guy. Seriously, it's neither of your faults. The kid died, his time was up. There is no such thing as a premature death, well, short of suicide." He waved a hand dismissively. "Would you have felt the same way If you had gotten out of the building, and he had gotten hit by a car?"

"I….guess not….I don't know, because it didn't happen! If I had been watching the stove, he wouldn't be dead right now!"

"And how do you know that? Are you psychic? Can you read the future? How do you know that if you had done anything else that it would have turned out differently?"

"Well.."

"No, I don't want to hear it. What happened happened, sure, it was a shitty thing to happen. But the fact is it _happened_, and it's time you let go of it. Moping over it isn't going to do you any good."

"But…"

Leon raised an eyebrow. "You want me to throw you into the river again?" I shook my head. "Good, then shut the fuck up. You're a kid, you'll live, you'll have other loves, and you'll have a good life. But if you let this one thing screw you over, then hell, you might as well die, because no one wants to sit and see you mope. It only burns out those around you. The only think keeping you miserable is you. The sooner you get passed that, the sooner I can get rid of you."

I hung my head and stared at the ground. Perhaps this hobo was right. Perhaps…it was time to move on.

But how could I do that, when Axel's ghost was haunting my every moment?

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OOOOOOO Two chapters in one night. I'm tired.

Did not see this going this way until I wrote it. I love not havin a plan. Now everything is working out and falling into place. Prewriting can go kill itself. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Ok, I'm done.

**Review please? Leon could use it. So could Riku at the moment…**

**-Koji**


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